His Trojan Horse
by CMayleenJ
Summary: Caroline Forbes, a respected vampire among her ranks as a pioneer for her kind, but how did she come to be? Few people know of her roots, and those few figures are the key to uncovering the mystery of her tragic life. Her sacrifices are revealed with every familiar face, until the puzzle of her past comes together to paint Niklaus Mikaelson's ultimate loss, the love of his life.
1. Chapter 1

**_HIS TROJAN HORSE_**

Chapter One

The Devil Dressed, Heaven Sent

_Present Day, New Orleans_

The white tasted bitter on her tongue, despite its' notorious thick, rich flavor Marcel all but promised about when he had poured her a glass minutes ago. _My favorite special ingredient, stirred to perfection, _he treasured.

_You…altered a 1787 Chateau? _She had replied, aghast. She knew their tastes differed from humans, but the red wine alone in its' unopened state was reputed to be worth well into a hundred-thousand dollars. She had saved it from her earlier days in the settled colonies and gifted it to her new companion when she visited the devastated city a century or so ago, cherishing it as a mark for a new beginning.

_Freshly opened, _he assured. He grinned his usual boyish manner, calming her nerves. She nodded towards the bar underneath them, referring to either of the bar attendants who tended the alcohol to the many festive guests below. She caught one of the brunette's wrist hovering over a glass, catching the pink liquid shift maroon, and then understanding what Marcel had meant. She looked at the glass with calculating eyes. She often avoided her necessary vitality from the 'tap' –always remorseful to soak the life from another to preserve her own. To appease her gracious host, she bit her own tongue and sipped the rim of the glass slowly, savoring the rich twinge on her taste buds and swallowing her guilt with a small gulp.

_I thought it was the perfect occasion. I haven't seen you since the reconstruction! _Roughly a century and a half, 150 or so years, since they accompanied each other, Caroline calculated. Arithmetic wasn't her strongest point. Marcel nodded along, just as she did out of habit, agreeing with the lengthy span of time that had passed between them. _My city is rebuilt, its' inhabitants happy and healthy, and I get to see my beautiful companion once again after a lifetime! If this isn't a great opportunity to share your wonderful gift, I don't know what is!_

She nodded along. _Have I mentioned you look absolutely beautiful? Time has done you well, just like it has this wine. _Caroline smiled appreciatively. At one point in her long time, she would have savored every shallow compliment bestowed upon her. Her parents did well to program into her psyche that 'beauty' was the only thing that would get her anywhere –and anywhere basically meant a husband that would provide and command her upon the mark of marriage. Times have changed, so as she. 'Beauty,' although acknowledge, wasn't as admirable as her other qualities –but for Marcel's sake, understanding he had genuine, sincere intentions –she replied with a meek 'thank you.'

_Why so shy? The Caroline I knew was bold and brave! _Caroline smiled along the rim of her glass, reminded by the words of one of many books in her vast library. Huxley wasn't her favorite author, but she admiring is outlook and deep analysis of the evolving work around them. She's seen herself the grand-scale of change of the world around her. It didn't seem so long ago when she was just a young girl enjoying the simply, lavished life as her noble father's only daughter. Soon, her massive castle burned to ashes, replaced by her cherished three-story White Colonial along Boston's historic streets –one of the last remaining landmarks from the revolutionary days. _Caroline, stop hiding behind that mask! _Marcel yipped, grinning like a mischievous child as he reached over to snatch her mask. Her older reflexes caught his arm and pushed it back –lightly, she reminded herself, knowing very well her strength greatly dulled his.

_It's a masquerade, _Caroline joyfully played, grinning to hide her growing anxiety. She was aware she wasn't Marcel's only noble guest. There were a few –two (or three, she had to yet to verify) –of attendance who were older and stronger in caliber. Marcel sense her hesitation but dared to not ask about such matters –he did not want to push his strongest ally away. He had assumptions of her reservations, noticing her fearful glint upon hearing of the Niklaus and his sister's sudden arrival days before. Her startled eyes is what persuaded Marcel to bite back his original idea to introduce his two oldest –and greatest –friends together.

He had suspected the two had met before –and estimating by her reaction to his presence –he assumed it wasn't a pleasant one. It would just take time, he supposed, but vampire time was longer than a mortals –so he would have to conjure more patience than usual. Unless, as he suspected, Klaus had alternative motives, and in that case, he would arouse Caroline's negative feelings about the Original Hybrid to a greater strength. Of course, she was a century or so younger than the Klaus –that was a given –but she was stronger than the rest of his followers –very much so, and that would give him some sort of advantage. If only he could persuade Rebekah to join his flanks, he calculated, then he would have enough force to pause Klaus into reconsidering whatever plan he intended to complete.

_Are you sure you don't want me to introduce to the rest of my crew? _Marcel pleaded, leaning over the railing, raking his dark eyes over her contemplating form. She was exquisite. He found the small flame that she kindled when they shared a few intimate moments during their brief companionship still burned as fervently as the vervain in his lip. The short red dress hugged her petite figure like a second skin, emphasizing her thing physique and endless legs that glistened under the spare lights behind them. One shoulder was bare while the other was draped like a glimmering ribbon, clasped together with an eccentric diamond piece just above her breast. Her face was masked by an intricate lace mask, webbed and embodied with small jewels that matched her single jewel piece binding her dress together. Her hair –her prized possession, constantly envied among her admirers –was a unique wheat blonde, something gold, depending on the light, but in the shade, her pale locks curled flawlessly in soft spirals around her angelic face. Ironic, dressing like the devil in the flesh, but gazed at as if she was Heaven sent. That was the Caroline Forbes he knew. A friend to the end, a fearsome force to those who wronged her.

_It would be a shame if you were denied the credit you well deserve for planning such a fantastic party! _Caroline waved off the compliment with modesty.

_It's the least I could do! I owe it to you and this city! _She assured brightly, smiling in her usual sunny manner. _Seriously, just enjoy the party, _she urged, grabbing his hand warmly and engulfing it with both hands. He felt the tender moment tug at his beating heart. He was sure she knew the effect she had on him. It was hard to resist the charismatic blonde. In truth, she was aware of his mild feelings, but just as she had when she had departed years ago, she ignored them –hoping he'd move on. However, she did value their friendship greatly, and hoped they could preserve that, thus why she continued her affectionate motions.

Marcel excused himself shortly after, noticing another heavenly blonde descend the staircase. _What's her name? _Caroline asked for conversation's sake, catching his wavering stare. _She's pretty. _

_Camille, _he said. _She's a bit of a spit fire. _Caroline bit back a laugh. Camille resembled something like her, from a distance, at least, and the fact they shared similar-sounding names only added to the irony. Perhaps Caroline wasn't the one-of-a-kind everyone made her out to be. The bitter fact was harder to swallow than she intended. She intended it to be a joke but the joke was sicker than she imagined. Why did she always sabotage herself? Before she knew it, she crushed the glass in her hands. Marcel's attendant quickly replaced her broken shards with a new sample of their unique wine. She caught his admiring looks at the vintage wine and allowed him a glass for himself. He thanked her appreciatively and promptly swallowed the small sample in a barbaric fashion. Caroline averted her gaze from the display and towards the festive populous below, unaware of her hawkish eyes preying from above.

Her bright blue eyes caught Klaus and his sister maneuver through the dense crowd. She instinctively pulled back from the railing and into the cover of the darkness where she safely hid from their view, although, they didn't spare a gaze upwards where she lurked. How could she miss them? Rebekah was similar in physical traits, blue eyes and blonde hair in all, but Rebekah demanded a darker presence, and her midnight black dress did just that. It hugged her body, while her broad shoulders were bare. She walked upright, like the queen she was brought up to be, alongside her black-clad brother. Unlike Caroline, Rebekah's fair hair was flared up, tussled and adorned by raven black roses –fitting for the affair and the siblings alone.

Klaus carried his usual appeal, but tonight he looked rather dashing in a suit she expect Elijah to wear –speaking of his older brother, she still had not caught sight of the 'moral compass.' She subconsciously sneered at the thought. While many had put the older brother on a pedestal, Caroline had seen many times Elijah manipulate his compass to fit the need of his family. He was willing to step aside and sacrifice the girl he bore feelings for, loved, if Caroline could stretch that far, for the sake of his power-hungry brother. An innocent woman, no matter how much she sinned, would have been slaughter just so Klaus could become a bigger abomination.

Of course, Caroline should not be so black-and-white, she reminded herself. She rearranged her cold expression to a neutral one, so passing guests would not suspect anything awry. She was not perfect herself. She's done many atrocities herself for the sake of others. She supposed it could all be weighed by the cause. She was plagued by reminders, of the 12 witches who she slaughtered for the sake of saving a single girl –a girl who abandoned her not shortly after, but at least she didn't chase her down to seek revenge for a bruised ego, not like Klaus would. Her scowled returned without her knowing it.

"I need another drink," she thought bitterly to herself. She didn't realize she drank her glass dry until she found it empty upon her lips out of habit. She sought out her attendant but found him missing. _Great, _she groaned to herself. She would have to venture to the floor below and find another source. She didn't care if it was chateau. She just needed to feel a burn in her throat to distract her from the burning pit in her stomach. She just had to make sure she was hidden from view, so Klaus wouldn't suspect her appearance. She was sure he didn't have a clue and wanted to make sure it was kept that way.

She gathered her cape hanging off the chair beside her. She had strutted into Marcel's lovely masquerade hooded, adorning a blood red cloak that was refurnished to its original glamor. Her intent was flaring with her creative touch, adorning on the innocent façade of her childhood favorite folklore, Little Red Riding Hood, with her notorious sexy twist. She pulled the long hood over her head, shrouding her shining locks and hovering over her forehead, shading her face in impenetrable blackness with exception of her ruby lips, and had yet to clasp it together over her chest when her curious eyes caught Klaus stepping forward below, eyes set on someone she had not seen.

She peered over the railing, now safely disguised, and found herself disgusted once again when she caught Klaus taking Camille's gloved hand in his own, kissing it tenderly. She snarled lowly, unable to curb her jealousy. How long would it take before her feeling would fade? _It's been centuries!_ And yet, here she was, succumbing to pitiful human emotions that had tied her to a miserable existence that she hated to remember. And her carbon copy of all thing! Why did she let these things get to her? The railing bent in her first, leaving behind a sharp dent. She didn't bother to smooth it out. Instead, she stormed to the main walkway towards the grand staircase spiraling close to the bar. She was barely noticed as she quickly descended in the same footsteps as Camille but departing in the opposite direction, towards the bar were a line of whiskey shots awaited her appetite.

"Excuse me," she demanded when a fumbling stranger obstructed her destination path, pulling one vampire by the back of his cuff and tossing him to the side. He landed on his feet but he swirled in a daze, utterly confounded by the sudden force. She was long gone, disappearing into the massive crowd, until she emerged from group of Marcel's rowdy companions towards the bar counter they were obstructing. "I'll take these," Caroline order, grabbing one in each hand and swallowing them whole angrily.

"Hold it," someone charged, grabbing her arm as she tried to pull away. "Where do you think you're going with my shots? I paid for those!"

She didn't even bother memorizing their face as she confronted them, blazing. Her cherry lips snarled sharply, baring her teeth. "Thank you for the drinks," she ordered harshly, delivering her message clearly. "A girl can use a break, you know?" The man understood she wasn't in the mood, and sensing her strength and age, he submitted to her natural dominance and backed down under her icy glare. The bartender was surprised but said nothing nonetheless, as directed by Marcel.

She disbanded from the public eye, abandoning her lofty shelter for good as she approached the back exit, aiming to avoid Klaus and his sister.

"Caroline!" Marcel yipped. Caroline groaned and looked over her cloaked shoulder to see Marcel and his companion, Camille, in tow. She narrowed her gaze on the white-clad blonde with critical eyes, already drawing up comparisons. The mermaid-style dress was too tight. The material exaggerated her features, already seeing unflattering fat pockets where Camille overlooked, although overall the girl was abnormally thin –aside from her exaggerated bust that seemed to multiply due to the suffocating tightness of the God forsaken dress.

Now, now, she reminded herself, let's not judge on physical basis. One too many times she had been a victim of being undermined simply due to her gender and small physique –and she proved them wrong every single time. Perhaps Camille would prove herself just as Caroline had.

"Caroline, this is Camille," Marcel introduced the two blondes. Camille stumbled forward, almost losing her footing if it wasn't for Marcel's assuring hand on her waist. Caroline raised a brow, impressed by his brazenness –seeing as she hadn't witness much between them. Either she missed out a lot or he moved rather quickly. "Camille, this my beloved friend, Miss Caroline Forbes."

"It's nice to meet you, Caroline," Camille boldly began, the first to initiate direct contact. Camille was optimistic that Caroline would be more pleasant than the previous blonde she met, Rebekah. Camille could not curb her habit of assessing her, though, as she critiqued Caroline's short dress and shady hood. "Great party! Marcel tells me you planned all of this!"

"Thanks," Caroline enthusiastically replied, raising her pitch to match Camille's excitement, "now leave," she commanded lowly, dilating her pupils, and dropping her strained smile. Marcel gaped, not expected Caroline's sudden hostility.

"Caroline!" He yelled, disgruntled.

Before Camille's compulsion drove her in the other direction, Caroline sighed and reversed her compulsion, apologizing half-heartedly and sending the couple on their way. Marcel stayed diligently, promising to join her side later. Caroline anticipated a scolding from the young vampire but instead, he took her hand and used his other hand to pull away her hood. "Stop being so anti-social," he persisted, grinning. She knew the grin. He was planning something. "The Caroline I knew was never so reserved. She was the life of the party! I don't know who got you in a foul mood but I know exactly what will cheer you up!" He guided her away from the exit towards the center of the crowd.

"Marcel, what the hell are you doing," Caroline whispered harshly, aware of the eyes on the pair as the approached a clearing in the middle of the room. Klaus was destined to be one of the first, his personality demanded he be front and center.

"As many of you know," Marcel introduced loudly, commanding all eyes. Caroline gulped, scared to look away from Marcel, fearing she would connect with Klaus' somewhere in the crowd. She was looking for opportunities to escape and disappear for good. "And some to witness long ago, when this city was burned to ashes, few of us were left to rebuild but we persevered, with the tremendous aid and leadership from my lovely friend, Miss Caroline. She has graced us with her appearance after so long! I'm glad we can share this wonderful night with this amazing woman who picked us up when we were on the ground and helped us pick up the pieces! I'd like to dedicate this party to her well-deserved credit, not only as our friend, but also as the organizer of tonight's festivities! Give our girl a hand!"

Blaring applause followed not even a second after but all she wanted to do was duck and cover. Marcel pointed to the band. Instantly, as if they knew of tonight's events, began to blare a familiar tune from her time in the twenties, introducing the first notes of the Charleston that she perfected with her graceful steps. Marcel took her hand and began to tap his feet against the flooring, urging her to do the same, before they were swept up in the tune, swirling around like they had during the Harlem Renaissance.

Festive party-goers who were familiar with the dance joined in besides them, sharing grins of excitement as they celebrated a lost era in remembrance of Caroline's fondest decade for 'her' enjoyment. She kept a smile on her face to show thanks but just below the surface, her anxiety was about the blow the roof off the joint and all she wanted was to run and hide, knowing Klaus was bound the find her.

"Why are you so apprehensive?" Marcel asked, concerned. She looked terrified, shaking even. He never seen her like this. He's only seen her as a strong, assertive woman. One who could enter a bar fight and come out on top. The Alpha Bitch. The commanding woman who had everything and everyone in order. A certified Queen in every right.

"You don't understand," Caroline started shakily. "Klaus…he'll kill me. I… I did something a _long _time ago that I never answered to because I ran away before he caught me. You know how he is. He holds grudges. I'm no exception. He'll kill me in a heartbreak." She rushed, eager to escape. Her eyes darted from one direction to another. Her hair wisped from one shoulder to another, however graceful the notion was, but the fear tainting her bold blue eyes marred her admirable features, staining the image of strength Marcel last remembered her as.

"What," Marcel urged, curious about her unspoken past. He thought he knew her but her past was buried deeper than he thought. How many skeletons did she have in her closet that he hadn't counted?

Caroline gulped. "If I live to tell you, I will, but right now is not the time," she hissed. Her heart pounded painfully against her

"You can escape to my right, Brady will escort you out and you can run," Marcel whispered to her ear, rocking her body closely, protectively. "I don't see him but that doesn't mean he doesn't see us. Klaus has that uncanny ability to see everything. I'll distract him before he can do anything. He won't pull anything here, not in this crowd. Just tell me I'll see you again," Marcel pleaded.

Caroline smiled against the crane of his neck as he pulled her in tight, concealing their short-lived intimate hug as another dance maneuver before pushing out for another spin. She cloak had dropped to the floor moments ago and was long lost in the crowd. She feared her scent would be picked up by Klaus but realized the cloak itself would distract him for a while, allowing her escape, but unfortunately, her scent would be fresh and she would have to endure another century or so –perhaps an eternity –of running.

"I'm glad we got to see each other again," she whispered amongst the roar of the festive crowd. "I'm not sure when but Klaus won't deter me from trying, unless her pulls my heart out, then I guess he would succeed, but he never killed my spirit, and he won't start now." Caroline defended herself, proud. Marcel smiled broadly.

"That's my girl," he whispered. "Okay girly, go, call me, whatever you need to do," he urged. She let go of his hand in the midst of the action and wisped off into the eccentric crowd.

She must be the master of grand escapes, she thought, as she recollected the first time she retreated into the cover of the night with uncertainty –but, by the lack of Klaus trailing behind her –she assumed she was safe, for now at least. She was out of the city, never one to cut on safety precautions. It was her extremes that often saved her behind, ready to move to the next continent to avoid her untimely end.

She relied not on her speed but cunning, though. Timing was equally important, but cunning was what allowed Caroline and Katerina their freedom –or at least, their chance at freedom. As expected with the cold world, their survival outside the confines of their limitations depended on their skill to avoid the very demons lurking around every corner. Klaus was one thing, but he wasn't the only danger to await her. They had to look out for themselves –which is why Caroline found herself alone, once again, running from one temporary comfort to another. She wanted to scream, to yell, but that would only give her away, so she kept running, refusing the spare her feet a moment to breath.

_To be Continued…_


	2. Davina

Chapter 2

_Davina_

_Caroline, _I heard Marcel cry out loudly. I shot up, frightened by his unexpected voice. He should be at the party. It wasn't that late into the night and people's laughter chanted outside my window, oblivious of me –of course –so to say hearing his voice was refreshing was an understatement. My excitement peaked when I heard him address another person, and not just any. _Caroline, _as in the notorious blond he all but glorified.

I often tried to picture her from his wild descriptions but the saintly vampire he only _recently_ boasted about was too grand in details that I lost more than I count, only leaving behind the vague outline of a gold-haloed woman with out-of-world beauty and sea-green eyes. Her kindness, though, was what tugged me. I could only hope she could extend her generosity to me.

. He seemed rushed, surprised… yet, he didn't seem scared. There wasn't the nervous, defensive jump in his octaves, as he would when speaking to Klaus or Rebekah. When he spoke 'Caroline's' name, he was soft, trusting, like he would address me. I trembled in excitement, hearing his voice rise in volume as they climbed the stairs. They were close. I felt my palms sweat up. I wanted to sit down but I was too restless, pacing in front of the door awaiting Marcel and his infamous visitor.

Would she like me? Would she help me?

I could hear her chime. She was rushed, pushed, but she didn't seem resentful or angry. If anything, the edge in her voice was fanned by fear, not anger. She was scared while Marcel tried to assure her, calming her in his charismatic manner but she wasn't buying it, not that I could tell. Her tongue was sharp and quick, like a whip, as she emphasized the short notice. She seemed pressed for time, by the sound of it. She was in a hurry, she and Marcel both. That worried me. Did something happen? Did something go awry? I looked around frantically, not sure how I could help the situation. I only had a few things ready to pack

I expected a rough knock on the door but to my surprise, her knuckled rapped softly in a set of threes, calmly, as if to avoid alerting me of any trouble I suspected moments ago.

"Davina," Caroline cut though. Her voice was clear and light, gentle as she coaxed me to open the door so she wouldn't seem like she was intruding. "My name is Caroline and I'm a friend of Marcel's. Do you mind if I come in?"

If there was any struggle of time, she made sure not to show it as she stood silently outside my door. I stuttered a clumsy response, before fumbling to open the rackety door. I wasn't sure what would greet me –Caroline was too great of an image and I gave up any attempt to imagine her after a while –but the goddess outside my door took my breath away.

Marcel's admiring words didn't do her justice. She was…just flawless. Her kind wide blue eyes were unmasked –as the piece of plastic was tucked in her palm at her hip –and gazed down at me gently, with a tenderness I've forgotten had existed after what-seemed-to-be an eternity of being locked up. Her loose, silver-blonde locks crowned her face in a queenly fashioned, and I remembered how Marcel referred to her highly as if she was royalty –and then, in that moment as I took in her face, everything clicked, and I understood exactly how he thought she was unworldly.

"Davina," she breathed softly, smiling kindly. She didn't seem like a vampire. She didn't look dark or menacing, I don't think she could be capable of looking anything like Rebekah or Marcel when they were infuriated. I wondered how she survived, not even fathoming she must have killed a handful of people herself. She probably gave them the gift of a merciful death. "It's nice to meet you finally," she chimed brightly. Her voice sparkled warmth, just like her dazzling eyes. "I've heard such great things about you from Marcel."

All I could do was nod, mesmerized by her features. "I've heard a lot about you, too," I mumbled, tripping over my own tongue.

"Good things, I hope," she chuckled. "Do you mind if I come in? Is it a good time?"

I'm not sure she realized I overheard her rushed words outside in the hallway but I gave her the benefit of the doubt. I nodded and stepped aside, allowing her entrance into my small, private chambers. I was embarrassed, knowing a woman of her caliber has seen much greater cities and places, and my tiny attic room was nothing to compare. Against my assumption, she found some good in the dusty attic and complimented on how my unique taste. I guess she was just trying to ease the tension in my shoulder, and she patted the spot beside her on my bed, beckoning me to join her.

"I wish I could have met you earlier, and in different circumstances, but time passes by faster than I realized," she apologized sincerely, "and I lost track of time. Had Marcel told me earlier about you, I certainly would have made time to journey down to New Orleans sooner! Unfortunately, this isn't a social call," she frowned and my heart dropped. "Marcel told me about the trouble brewing in New Orleans and he's worried about you. It's not safe for you here. Did you know that?" I nodded. My throat was too dry to speak and my mind was jumbled, unable to compose some kind of response. "Marcel and I both agree you need to get out of here before it's too late. But," Caroline shifted, turning her legs to cross so she angled directly towards me rather than beside me. "I don't want to force you into something you aren't ready for."

"Sometimes though," Marcel intervened, "we have to do things we aren't ready for," he coaxed. I didn't miss the urgency in his voice.

Caroline shook her head, silencing him with concerned eyes. She knew of the recent events and the urgency of the matter but she didn't want to concern me. I was taken aback by her care. "Can you give us a moment, Marcel? You might cloud her judgment. She needs to think this through without you influencing her." Caroline demanded calmly. I caught hint of the strong authority her queenly reputation reputed her for and I admired how she didn't have to push her voice like Marcel did to get her point across. Marcel obeyed and left the room, closing the door behind him.

"Unfortunately, Marcel is right, however abrupt it is. I just want you to know what you're getting into though. You deserve that much. I want you to have a choice in the matter." Something in her eyes seemed sad, like she was reliving a bad memory. The sour turn of her lips told me it was rather unpleasant, but she brought her eyes away from the dark corner and back to me, snapping her back into reality. "I didn't have much a choice when I was your age and I wish I did. I can't say I would do anything different but to have some control is something I was denied. I don't want you to be resentful for something out of your control. It may seem like a big responsibility and if you want us to take the reins, we can do that, but here's your chance to decide what you want."

The weight of the burden she dropped on me dug a pit into my stomach. Now my naïve dreams of escape and adventure were now tainted with doubt and I felt bitter. I jittered in anxiety. "You can leave with me but that means leaving everything you've known. Childhood has been over for you for a while but once we leave the city, it will truly dawn on you and you're going to experience a span of powerful emotions, sadness and anxiety being exceptionally strong. You're going to experience the transition from child to adult at one point in your life but to be honest, the sooner is the better, because if we stay any longer, you might not live long enough to pass that land mark, do you understand?" I nodded, taking in her words, but my mind had yet to process the full depth of them. The doubt darkened. "But you're strong, and you're brave, and you'll experience a newfound sense of freedom greater than you can ever imagine. New Orleans is a magical place but take it from me," she grinned brightly, radiating a heavenly glow that descended a numbing sense of relief and assurance upon my body. "There is a world waiting for you. You deserve to see all the beauty and magic outside the confines of your safe haven. I'll be with you every step of the way until you decide you're old enough to expand on your own and that's your right I'll respect when that time comes."

"I don't want to die," I croaked. "I don't want to stay here and suffer anymore. I know what I'm risking but the reward is far greater than what is offered here. Caroline, please, get me out of here," I pleaded, shaken. I thought I was ready but I was scared.

Caroline wrapped me in an assuring hug. I felt untouchable in her protective arms and I just wanted to stay there forever. "I'm scared," I confided softly into her chest. She breathed heavily. My shaking had stopped and I felt her warmth lift me into higher spirits.

"I was, too," she mumbled into the crown of my head. She stroked my hair softly and I almost purred like a kitten, relaxed in bliss. "I was a lot like you, Davina. I was young, naïve, and far too trusting. You have someone looking out for you. I'm glad you do. I didn't and I was pushed into a world I didn't know I would survive in. I'm so glad you didn't have to suffer the way I did."

I swallowed. She sounded so small as she spoke those words, as if she had shrunk, yet her hold tightened, as if to protect me the way she wished she was protected. Maybe this is why she was so selfless. She didn't know me and yet her overwhelming compassion enveloped me. She was too human to be a vampire. "How did you turn?" I asked her innocently.

She smiled into the crown of my head, not offended by my curiosity. "I was 17, and ventured out to the hall looking for my father. He didn't show up for supper and it was passed sundown. Mom was concerned and I volunteered to retrieve him, thinking he was held up in the Lord's chambers." She sighed, and I heard her heart skip a beat, and I knew the repressed memories were just as vivid as the day itself, and I felt utmost pity for her. I could hear her voice choke only for a moment before she calmed herself. Her fingers tightened into my curls, cupping them like a stress reliever. "He and his comrades were slaughtered in the main hall. Their killer stood proudly at the end of the table, sipping blood from a wine cup like it was it victory desert and it was too late to escape. Next thing you know, he offers me the cup and forces it down my throat, telling me to get used to it. I don't know why he didn't just kill me like the rest but instead, he has my throat in his hands and he's squeezing, until I couldn't breathe. I woke up, thinking maybe I passed out, that it was a bad dream or he let me go, but no." Caroline shook her head. "The bodies were still there and he looms over me, grinning like a cat, and then waves towards the bodies telling me to have at it." A primal growl erupted from her throat but I wasn't scared. She wasn't going to hurt me but she was hurt, she was angry, and most of all, she was close to tears.

"I'm glad it was me and not my mom. If she had went, she would have died alongside my father. I couldn't bear imagining her meeting such a bloody death. I would make that sacrifice over again if I needed to. I wasn't proud of what Mikael made me do. After my hunger got the best of me, he told me no one would want me. I was a monster –and I was…" she admitted. "I went to my mother, but she rejected me, and I found Mikael waiting for me. I had no choice but to follow him. I had nowhere to go. _You do, though_," she cut the story off, scared to continue further. By the flame in her icy eyes, I knew the story brought up dark memories that I didn't want her to relieve. That was too cruel of me.

"I have a couple of places," Caroline told. "I have a quaint little manor in Boston but if you want, we can visit my home castle? I bought it when the owners had died a century ago. It was decaying but I restored it to its original glory. I don't go there often but you deserve some distance."

"A castle?" I jumped up, awed. I couldn't help the smile on my face. A real life castle? "How?"

She laughed. "When you live as long as I do, you accumulate enough money to buy you the world –and I bought some pieces –but Ireland is one place you can never forget. It was worth every penny." She smiled. "Do you want to go?"

"Yes, please," I breathed. I got up excitedly and began to shove random articles of clothes from one bench to the suitcase at the foot of my bed. Caroline laughed at my eagerness, filling the room with her lovely melody. "How old are you exactly?" I had to ask, feeling confident in my questions now that we established a bond. I felt like we opened the first door and it was okay to ask about her personally.

She leaned forward, puckering her lips playfully before erupting into a grin. "Math is not my best skill," she joked, wagging her finger. I chucked along with her. "I was born in the late 13th century, right before the English pushed into the Irish country. As I grew up, I watched most of my country gage in war and putting up a good fight before we succumbed to the powerful English century. The English got what they deserved when they took too much. We can cover the Revolutionary War on the way home," she chimed exuberantly, teeth glistening. Her light demeanor reminded me of Marcel in a way, in which her charisma compelled you to feel a certain way, and had a natural authority that commanded followers.

She smiled broadly and her white teeth glimmered like a Hollywood starlet, dazzling me with her presence once again. "Here, let me help you with that," she assisted, pulling some shirt from the dresser and tucking them nicely into another suitcase. "Pack light. My Mustang can't even hold the stuff I brought from home," she giggled. "Don't worry about the rest. We can go on a shopping spree when we stop by Boston to recoup. It's been a while since I had a shopping companion. It's going to be so fun!"

"What's your home like?" I had to ask as we scavenged my room for anything suitable on the trip.

"You'll see for yourself," she teased, holding a suitcase in one hand and a bag in another. "I have my car parked out front so we better hurry. Marcel can hold Klaus off but I don't know for how long before Klaus snaps. From what I remember, his temper is notorious for being shorter than mine and that's saying something."

I stopped. I thought I would say goodbye. I can't if he's with Klaus. Caroline sense my sudden change and joined my side, tenderly rubbing my arm before taking my hand in hers. "What's wrong? Are you scared? I won't let Klaus touch you. I would die before he soils another innocent life with his greed."

I shook my head furiously as tears prickled. I wanted Marcel here. I wanted to say goodbye. This whole time I wanted to get away I forgot how much I relied on Marcel. I was so ready to leave this life behind I forgot that he would stay with it. I wasn't ready to leave him.

As if she read my mind, she fumbled for some kind of assurance, furrowing her brows as she mustered something in her mind. "I'm sorry, Davina. I should have prepared you more. Saying goodbye to one life for another is…unimaginably…heart wrenching…" she settled with, and her words rang truer than anything else that stung my ears during my short life time. "You have to leave people, and some are awarded a goodbye and others…" she shook her head. "It's not like you won't see Marcel again. Trust me, you have a lifetime. You're bound to reunite. He understands why you have to leave suddenly and trust me, he won't hold it against you if you can't say goodbye in person." She knelt down. "If you want, I can find a way… I couldn't say goodbye to the people who sheltered me, and I felt like I betrayed them in the worst way possible… and you shouldn't have to carry that guilt. Pack what you can and I'll make sure you and Marcel will have a moment, okay? I won't let you down."

I was overwhelmed with her kindness. The fact she would go out on a limb for me… I couldn't handle it. I engulfed her in a suffocating hug like she had before, crying into her bare shoulder, thanking her inconsolably. She lifted me up with her supreme strength and held me tight like a mother would a child. I felt… safe. I never wanted to leave her light. Sadly, it came to an end as she lowered me down beside the bed. "I'll go get Marcel," she promised, kissing the crown of my head. She vamped off, leaving me behind in a haste to assure her promise.

Marcel took her place not shortly after, embracing me warmly as I cried into his shoulder.

"You're in good hands," he assured me. "Caroline took good care of me and I know she'll treat you like her own. Call me when you arrive safely." I nodded, unable to utter a clear word.

"Thank you so much Marcel," I choked. He smiled over my head.

"I would do it again," he assured.

"Where is she?" I mumbled after a while. My vision blurred as I tried to wipe the warm tears off my cheek.

"She's talking to Elijah," Marcel told. He chuckled, as if it was amusing. "She can hold her own against him. I'll escort you to the car."

He took my hand and walked me down the narrow staircase, guiding me from ahead to protect me from any danger. Caroline was there waiting for us at the step, shadowed by Elijah who looked like he was ready to maim. I froze, scared to proceed. It could be a trap and he'd kill us all.

"Elijah, leave," Caroline ordered, louder than ever. She looked over her shoulder. "I did you a favor, now it's time to repay a debt, or God help us all, we'll both be in a box by the end of the night," she demanded darkly, narrowing her icy gaze towards the Originals. He respected his word for once and bowed slightly before trotting out, hands in his pants.

I noticed he looked over his shoulder, gazing at Caroline longingly, as if… he was sorry? I couldn't fathom it. She noticed, too, and shook her head.

"Are you sure? Carolan, all of this… Niklaus… he…" The way he spoke her name, it was different. He spoke softly of her name but a twinge of an accent laced his lips as he slurred her name in an ancient form.

"No Elijah," she commanded. "We're not looking back. Klaus made his decision and I made mine. It can't be undone."

"But it can be forgiven," he suggested. Caroline bowed her head in thought before raising it valiantly. Marcel directly me to keep my distance from the two..

"Can it?" she challenged, doubtful. He voice was heated. "We both know your brother. Forgiveness is one of many things he lacks." Her tongue cracked like a whip and I winced as he passed her, on the way to the front doors where her car awaited.

"I'm sorry, Carolan," I heard Elijah utter. Caroline choked, unable to mouth a response, but she quickly drowned her emotion in a cold voice.

"You don't have to be sorry for anything," she corrected him.


End file.
